


burn your heart, awaken your thoughts

by gunwoong (sessrumnir)



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, a little bit of dirty talk, kinks mentioned in passing, they're horny and valid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22485418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sessrumnir/pseuds/gunwoong
Summary: Youngjo gets a surprise visit during the night. Except it's no surprise at all.(Or, Seoho is in the habit of visiting Youngjo's room at night.)
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Lee Seoho
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71





	burn your heart, awaken your thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd! title from the boyz' "got it".
> 
> and this is entirely [leeminhyuk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leeminhyuk/profile)'s fault.

Youngjo wakes up slowly. There’s a weight on his hips, and fingers touching his stomach. It’s a soft, feather-like touch, though, barely there; Youngjo blinks his eyes open, trying to figure out if this is another dream.

“Hyung,” he can hear the smile in his voice. When Youngjo finally focuses on the figure on top of him, he finds Seoho smiling, mischief written all over his face. The curtains are drawn open, letting moonlight in. It's late, judging by how quiet their apartment and the neighborhood is.

“Hey, you,” Youngjo says. His voice is raspy from sleep, but it’s enough to encourage Seoho. His hand slips under Youngjo’s shirt at the same time as his hips grind down.

Seoho leans over him, nibbles at his earlobe, says, “I miss you.”

Youngjo chuckles, hands finding the curve of Seoho’s waist. “Yeah?”

It hasn’t been that long, but he’s not about to point that out. He can feel himself hardening in his sweatpants, can tell by Seoho’s urgency that he’s not the only one.

“Yeah,” Seoho whispers in his ear. “Miss your cock.”

And just like that, Youngjo feels all the blood in his body rush to his dick. Seoho, incredibly pleased with himself, is smiling again. He knows very well the effect he has on Youngjo, and uses it to his advantage.

“I wanna suck your cock,” he adds, apropos of nothing, staring right into Youngjo’s eyes. He looks gorgeous in the semidarkness of the room, tousled hair and a grin that promisses trouble. At this point Youngjo should know how to answer to that, he should be better at the whole dirty talking thing, but he isn’t, and he doesn’t. He just nods, enthusiastically, and Seoho's grin grows bigger.

It’s risky that way, in the middle of the night, with the rest of the group asleep in the other room, but they both know that’s the opposite of a deterrent. If anything, Seoho found out early on, that somehow turns Youngjo on even _more_. So he’s made a habit of sneaking into his room at night, turning the key on the door and slipping into his bed, spitting into his hand and grabbing Youngjo’s dick like he is doing now, as if his life depends on it. He shifts until he’s lower on the bed, head level with Youngjo’s crotch.

“_Fuck_,” Youngjo hisses when Seoho swallows him whole, right off the bat.

He makes an effort to look down, to watch, because he can’t miss this. The way Seoho blows him doesn’t just feel good, it _looks_ good too. Seoho has his eyes closed, focusing on bobbing his head and twirling his tongue, one hand fondling his balls. Youngjo is completely hard in a matter of minutes, watching as Seoho sucks on the head of his dick like a particularly sweet lollipop. His lips look full and beautiful around him.

(Youngjo wonders briefly what he did to deserve _him_, this. He often does when Seoho is so intent on making him feel good. He doesn't know the answer to his own question.)

Seoho pulls back with a _pop_. He smacks his lips, wipes at the corners of his mouth like it's no big deal, then sits up on his heels. He taps Youngjo’s legs.

“Turn around,” he says. It’s not exactly bossy, there’s no edge to it, it’s just him—just Seoho, asking him something. But maybe that’s exactly _why_ Youngjo loves it so much. Seoho can make him do anything without as much as an order, just by saying it, throwing it out there, leaving it to Youngjo to follow or not. And as usual, Youngjo does as he is told immediately, turning on his stomach. Seoho pulls down his pants, just down to his thighs, and bites down at one of Youngjo’s cheeks. In turn, Youngjo bites the pillow—he can’t be loud, not now.

Sitting on top of Youngjo’s legs, keeping him in place, Seoho reaches bellow his bed to find the small bottle of lube. He’s used to it, finds it easily enough, and squirts a generous amount on his fingers. When he lowers one between Youngjo’s cheeks, brushing against his rim, Youngjo has a full body shiver—he can't help it, he's responsive by nature and right now he's _so_ pent-up. Seoho leans forward until he can whisper against Youngjo’s ear, “Hyung?” His voice is questioning; he's checking on Youngjo, because no matter how many times they've done this, he's always checking on him. He needs to know they're on the same page.

The pad of his finger is massaging Youngjo’s rim, and there’s something about the position they’re in—Seoho straddling Youngjo’s legs, his pants still halfway down his thighs—that works perfectly for Youngjo. He’s so turned on, he tries to buck his hips back, whimpers a “_please_” that comes muffled against the pillow.

“Please what, hyung?”

Seoho is still teasing with his finger, and Youngjo wants to cry out, wants to beg for _more, please, please, more_, but he doesn't trust himself not to be too loud. Instead, he turns his head so Seoho can hear him, and whispers, “Please fuck me.”

Seoho giggles. With what is a very clear smile in his voice, he says, “Alright.”

He fingerfucks Youngjo like he has nothing else to do and nowhere else to be. He’s thorough, slipping one finger, then adding a second when Youngjo is pliant enough, and adding a third when Youngjo starts bucking his hips back in want. It’s a silent process—they can’t make too much noise, for starters, but Seoho is also so unpredictable, Youngjo never knows when he’s going to shower him in praise, humiliate him (to his delight) with the dirtiest talk Youngjo’s ever heard, or be quiet and work Youngjo’s body like an instrument he’s trained in. This time he’s quiet, and Youngjo risks a glance backwards to find Seoho watching his own fingers coming in and out of him, mouth slightly open.

He catches Youngjo’s gaze and smirks at him, pulling back his fingers. Youngjo buries his face against the pillow and groans, because he didn’t mean to rush him and he misses his fingers already, as pathetic as that sounds to his own ears. He feels Seoho positioning himself, hears him closing the cap on the bottle when he squeezes some more lube on his dick, and moans when he feels Seoho slowly entering him.

“Shh, hyung,” Seoho says, leaning forward again and sinking the last couple of inches into him. He plants a kiss on Youngjo’s shoulder, “We gotta be quiet.”

Youngjo nods, but he’s not sure what he’s nodding to. He feels so good, so turned on—he relishes the way Seoho feels inside of him and the way his own dick is pressed between his body and the mattress. Seoho’s weight on top of him feels familiar, too. Youngjo is just so happy he could cry.

(He _does_ cry, sometimes. When he's lost in the pleasure, or in his own feelings, he cries tears of joy. Seoho was alarmed at first, but he's learned a while ago that it's a good sign. Now, when it happens, Seoho kisses his tears away.)

Seoho pulls back and pushes in again, back and in again, and Youngjo is in heaven. He doesn’t realize how loud he’s moaning until Seoho uses a hand to cover his mouth, lightly, but still there. Youngjo feels like he’s melting, his body responding immediately to Seoho’s thrusts increasing in pace. Seoho kisses the visible skin on his neck, and it's so sweet it contrasts with the fast pace he’s using to fuck into Youngjo.

He pulls back at some point, pulling out of Youngjo as well. Youngjo pouts loung enough that Seoho—who’s in the process of taking off Youngjo's pants all the way—sees it and chuckles. “I’m here,” he reassures him. He lies down next to him, and turns Youngjo around so he’s on his side, with Seoho in position to spoon him. Except instead of spooning, Seoho pulls one of Youngjo’s legs up and enters him again, carefully, gently. Youngjo’s eyes roll back, and his hand flies to his dick—neglected so far—to stroke it to the rhythm of Seoho’s thrusts.

“Fuck, _fuckkkk_, I’m—“ He tries to say, but needs to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from moaning out loud. Seoho reaches around him to brush his hand away, grabbing Youngjo’s dick himself, stroking it much harder and faster than Youngjo himself was doing just now. “Fuck, Seoho, I—I’m so close—"

“Kiss me,” Seoho asks him, and Youngjo doesn’t need to be told twice. He turns his head around and meets Seoho’s lips halfway, coming as soon as Seoho’s tongue finds his. Seoho swallows his moans with the expertise of someone who has done this many times before.

Seoho lets go of his dick right before Youngjo needs to ask him to, and they kiss for a moment longer before Seoho pulls back and holds him in place, pistoning into him. Youngjo, still coming down from his orgasm, can’t help but grin to himself. As much as he loves gentle, tender lovemaking, he enjoys this side of Seoho too—fucking him hard and rough, seeking his own release like he can’t think of anything else. He’s breathing hard against the back of Youngjo’s neck, and Youngjo reaches a hand behind him to pull on Seoho’s hair, bringing him closer.

It doesn’t take long for Seoho’s hips to falter and for him to come inside of Youngjo, biting down at Youngjo’s shoulder to muffle his moans.

“Mmm,” Youngjo hums.

Seoho needs just a moment to collect himself before he’s grabbing the box of wipes under Youngjo’s bed. They make quick work of cleaning themselves as best as possible, sleep threatening to take over any moment now.

“Happy?” Youngjo asks as Seoho crumples the wipes into a ball and throws them into the trashcan. He misses, but neither tries to move from the bed. Instead, Seoho lies down next to Youngjo, shooting him a smile.

“Very. You?”

Instead of answering, Youngjo gives him an honest, happy smile and leans down for a quick peck on the lips. He snuggles against Seoho, who isn’t always down for the cuddling, but seems to be tonight. He lets Youngjo embrace him, even turning around to let Youngjo spoon him. Youngjo almost makes the mistake of making a comment, but instead he just basks in it, enjoying the moment and trying to get his breathing in synch with Seoho’s just for the sake of it.

“I need to go back to my bed,” Seoho whispers into the dark. He sounds half asleep already. Youngjo pulls him closer, nuzzles against the back of his head.

“Stay,” he pleads. “Tell them you had a nightmare.”

Seoho snorts.

“Tell them _I_ had a nightmare, then.”

“They’re not gonna believe us.”

It’s true. They’re being obvious enough as it is without waking up together in a locked room.

“We need a bigger place,” Youngjo muses. That makes Seoho laugh, which reverberates against Youngjo’s chest. “What?”

“Your priorities are so right.”

Youngjo laughs then, quietly, hugging Seoho tighter. They stay like that for another moment before Seoho extricates himself from Youngjo’s arms, standing up from the bed. Before leaving, he turns around and leans down to give Youngjo one last kiss. He cups his face, whispers against his lips, “I love you.”

Youngjo’s chest fills with so much warmth he can barely contain the smile on his face.

“I love you too,” he whispers back.

With a sleepy smile, Seoho slips back out of the room, carefully closing the door behind him.

The bed is still warm, and the smile is still on his lips when Youngjo closes his eyes and drifts back to sleep.


End file.
